


Dying Grass

by howveryzoe



Category: Frühlings Erwachen | Spring Awakening - Frank Wedekind, Spring Awakening - Sheik/Sater
Genre: Implied Underage, M/M, Romance, it's going to be sad and that's just how max and hans are, not very hernst sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-17 12:24:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5869360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/howveryzoe/pseuds/howveryzoe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They have to trees to shield them from the world and their hearts to play the soundtrack of their desires.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dying Grass

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ShippingEverything](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShippingEverything/gifts).



> Essentially just a companion piece to something shippingeverything wrote  
> Not very hernst except at the end, more about Hans/Max.  
> The parallels to Melchior and Wendla as well as the song "all numb" and the line about the perfect grass/dying grass which is from the original play are all intentional.  
> Have fun.

The year is 1890, the month is April, the place is Germany, the trees are tall, the breeze is light, the sun is low in the sky, and the grass is a lush green. 

The roots seem to bend around them like a cradle. Like the earth itself made such a perfect spot on a perfect afternoon with the taste of last night's rain in their mouth. The taller boy lies spread out in the grass, his thin arms bent over his head holding it up, his feet crossed as he stares up at the canopy of trees above them, taking the world in with his soft hazel eyes. The shorter boy is near his torso, his strong legs pulled into his chest and his back against one of the trees. A book is propped up on his knees and his blonde hair glistens where it catches the sun. The trees are thick, and they are far from town. They are as safe as they can be. 

The long thin boy turns to look at the blonde boy and smiles, glad to have this sight for his own eyes. The blonde boy doesn't look up from the book, reading aloud steadily, unaware of his admirer.

"Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hands too much who's mannerly devotion shows in this, for saints have hands and pilgrim hands do touch, and palm to palm is holy palmers kiss." The boy reads aloud, his voice bringing life to the words. He's been at this for hours with the other boy as his audience. Finally, he speaks.

"Do you really think they can fall in love so fast?" The boy asks, interrupting him as he attempts to start the next phrase. 

He places the book down on his knees, still open to his place. "No, I doubt they're really in love. They just want to screw each other. But the words are beautiful enough to make you forget I think. That's the whole point."

"But, Hanschen! They kill themselves for each other. Isn't that more than just wanting to be physical?" He says the last word quieter, like he's afraid their pastor will appear if he says it too loud. Like it'll ruin the magic of the moment.

"They killed themselves cause they were stupid and ruined. They had nowhere else to go. I mean what could Juliet do? Her husband was dead, she had faked her own death so she couldn't go back to her family, she had no money, no anything. She was ruined." Hanschen responds, pitying the heroine. "There's nothing romantic about that Max, it's simply realistic."

"So, you think suicide is realistic? You think it's a good choice? When things get bad one should just slit their wrist?" Max inquires, wondering if the other boy will confirm his own fears when his thoughts get dark and their peer's taunts get unbearable. When just going to church makes his skin crawl. He was always the boy who wouldn't give up, smiling in the face of illness and school and parents whispering about what came out or Hilda von Trenk's youthful mishap. Snide, piteous comments.

"No, of course not! Don't say that. You must never let them defeat you, I'm just saying Juliet didn't kill herself for love she killed herself because she felt hopeless." He reaches out to touch the other boy's hand, the two always in sync he feels as his he knows what he is thinking. "It was stupid of her to do, it just made sense."

"Would you ever kill yourself? If things got that bad? If you felt ruined?" Max feels as if he is treading upon dangerous ground. Getting too close to a subject both boys have sworn off. The heart of the issue perhaps.

"I would never. I won't leave you here alone, that would be cruel." He says assuring him with a smile. "And what could ruin me? I'm the head boy after all."

"Oh, I don't know. But what if you did something like Juliet did? Something impulsive." He can't get the smile out of his head. And the "I won't leave you" echoes in every corner of his brain. Taunting him. Telling him to just do it already. He's waited long enough.

Now Hanschen is beginning to get it. He's no idiot, and he's no saint. He's felt the touch that lingered too long and the looks across the classroom that he was supposed to ignore. Distracting him from his Latin. His heart speeds up and he doesn't know whether to run or move in closer. He decides to stay still, to play along. "Impulsive? Like loving the wrong person you mean?"

"I don't know maybe. Or just doing wrong to your family or whatever. Have you ever considered it?" Max knows a mistake like this ruined his mother but he isn't eager to learn from her mistakes. He'd rather make them. "Sometimes I do."

"I guess I do as well. But what it be worth it? I mean, you would have to give everything up. Always hide, always be worried. Be an outcast." He says it quickly, not sure who he's convincing. He leans back, wanting to disappear into the tree but wanting to be nowhere else. He feels like his life is culminating in this moment. Like it will define him from now on. "I don't want that. I couldn't do that. It would be stupid."

"Like my mother you mean?" Max says it bitterly, unable to look at Hanschen for fear of what he will do. "She made a mistake and now we can't even get charity from the church when we need it. She can't married either. She says she doesn't want to but I know better. Do you think she deserves it cause she was stupid or something?"

"No! Max, don't say that! Your mother was young, she just did what was...natural, that's all. It wasn't wrong. And there would be no you without it. It must've been a good thing." Hanschen takes the other boy's hand in his out of impulse, forgetting his reservations. Their faces are close now. He can feel his racing pulse in his palm.

"No one has ever said that to me you know. Not even her...I, Hanschen you're my best friend? You know that?"

"Of course Max! We've always been best friends."

"But what if I want more? What if there is more? Don't you feel it? When you lie in the grass can't you see that something else is here?" Max speaks quickly, biting down on his bravery and silencing his nerves.

"Max, please, we can't-" Hanschen starts, shaking, not knowing what to do. Not knowing where to run.

"Why not?" He nearly yells it. "I've never wanted anything more. I will not live my life numb. I can't do it anymore. I can't go to church and wear long white robes meant to hide us from what we want while Priests stare above us and reach with rough hands. I won't live like that! I refuse."

"Max, you know how I feel. You've always known but we shouldn't please-listen to me." Hanschen grabs his face to calm him down, stroking his brown hair slowly. He knows he will break soon, he knows he will give in, but he holds out. Standing upon his sins and his principles and his father's bible.

"I've been listening, and I want to listen and look at you and hold you for the rest of my life. That's all I want ever. I don't care about anything else." Max's voice trembles and he lets his arms wrap around the other boy's neck. He sits up and crushes their lips together. Making him forget, stunning his world into silence.

Hanschen let's go for the first time in his life. Let's himself fall into the kiss. His shock is over quickly and he returns the kiss. They fall back into the perfect grass and let the trees hide them from the world. He runs his fingers through the other boy's hair. 

Finally Max pulls away, leaving him breathless beneath him in the grass. "I'm sorry." He says suddenly, raising himself up, seized with regret.

"No, don't be." Hanschen grabs at his suit and pulls him back to him. He's drunk on this and not willing to let go. "I want this too, it's okay."

"I never thought this would happen. I thought we'd pine and stare and cry till we grew old and died." He nearly laughs when he says, sitting up and letting the other boy's legs slide around him, pulling him into his lap, his back pressed against the tree, his arms clutching him.

"I'm glad you fucked up on me Max. I really am." Just saying his name brings a broad smile to his face. "I know I certainly wouldn't have gotten my head out of my ass soon enough to kiss you."

He kisses him again, quicker and rougher than the first. "I love you, you know? I always have and always will Hanschen. No matter what they say or do I will love you."

He sits in the words, looking up at the boy above him. He let's his own spill from his lips. "And I love you. I promise I will never leave you. I'll be your mistake."

Max smiles and brushes a hair form the other boy's face. "You're so beautiful. This can't be wrong if everything is so beautiful right now."

Hanschen nods in agreement and lets the other boy remove his jacket and then fumbles with the buttons on his shirt. He doesn't care if they're caught. Let them catch them. He'll laugh all the way to the reformatory.

Max's hands veer lower towards the buttons on his trousers and his own hand reaches towards it, sweaty palm touch the back of his hand.

"Yes? Do you want to?" He asks slowly meeting his gaze. 

"Yes." Hanschen says defiantly and leans back into the soft grass, keeping his eyes on Max.

And it's not perfect, it's awkward and strange and full of stopping and starting and asking. There are many "that hurts" and "okay how about here"s and "yes there please"s and "are you okay"s. A lot of kissing and a lot of trying and a lot of joy. And it's love. It's definitely love.

And when it's over they're lying wrapped safe in each others arms, the sun setting, asleep in the perfect patch of grass. Dreaming in the moss by the brook.

A month later Max lies in his bed shaking and sweating as a doctor presides over him. Hanschen holds his hands, missing church and school and everything. He cries as he screams and writhes and sees things that aren't there. He tells him he loves, he tells him not to be sad.

They put him deep in the ground and Hanschen's heart goes with him.

A year later in the end of November Hanschen lies in the dying grass with another boy. He is tall like Max but he feels younger and smaller despite being stronger and healthier. He tells him of how they will feel in thirty years and he asks what they will do in the meantime. He tells him why not with next to no intention to keep the promise. He that he loves him more than he has ever loved anyone. He laughs and says he should. He kisses him hard and ruins him. Lets him fulfill all his desires in Hanschen's body. Lets him sign his love and fears onto his forehead.

Ernst might be his ruining, he thinks, as they lie together. He might be ruined by a good Catholic boy with sweet eyes and big dreams. He won't be defeated and he won't win either. He can't win. He learned that a year ago. 

He closes his eyes and keeps his promise to Max. He isn't sad. He isn't anything. He's numb. All numb.

But what else can he be?

**Author's Note:**

> I will not say BARE had no influence either.  
> I didn't have much time to proof so yeah.  
> Any questions find me on twitter at georgslefthand and tumblr at wherefigslie or joshiecastille!


End file.
